


Boots Make Fantastic Pillows

by lovecherishprotect16



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin sleeps on all the boots, Boots make great pillows, Clone bonding, Cuddles (ish), Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Sleepy Anakin, no beta we die like men, obi-wan is bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovecherishprotect16/pseuds/lovecherishprotect16
Summary: They don't talk about it, they rarely talk about anything having to do with emotional stuff, but when Obi-Wan is asked to share why his most treasured possession on his person is his BOOTS of all things, well... it turns emotional rather quick.5 times Anakin rested on Obi-Wan's boots and Obi-Wan learned that its okay to feel things.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Comments: 5
Kudos: 108





	1. Obi-Wan needs a drink to talk about feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Attack of the Clones, some random meme I saw on Pinterest, and my absolute love for fluffy fics for the birth of this story, and I have zero regrets.  
> I apologize for any misspellings, grammar problems, or incorrect Star Wars lore. A) No Beta. B) I consider myself an armchair Star Wars fan, so I'm not super anal about everything being perfect, I'm just here for the fluff. Hope you enjoy!

Obi-Wan would like to say that as a Jedi he was detached to what he wore on a daily basis, very much aware that Jedi were forbidden from attachments of any kind, including towards material comforts and such trivial things as clothing. However, as devoted to the Code as Obi-Wan is, to say that he was completely detached to how he looked would be impossible to admit.  
From his carefully manicured beard, to his pressed robes, to his perfectly shinned boots, Obi-Wan very much looked like he cared about his appearance. If you were to ask him if someone were to dress him for a day what he wouldn’t allow them to change, he would without hesitation say his boots. He would rather be shaved bald than let someone take his boots from him.  
The reason behind the odd choice is a very long one, spanning long into his own apprenticeship, as well as a personal one, and Obi-Wan is not known for being forthcoming on personal details. Its a reason he would never tell another soul, especially a Jedi, for fear of being mocked for something so true; that he harbors attachments and other trivial things like feelings for others.  
———————————————————————————————————————  
But one night, after a very, very long deployment full of skirmishes, camping out on muddy battlegrounds for months at a time until the 501st could come for backup, the 212th was finally back on Corusant for one week of leave and much needed rest. A few days into their leave, The Resolute also happened to land on Corusant for some repairs (Anakin’s fault, no doubt, although he would never admit that). Both battalions considered the other brothers both by extension of being clones and by extension of their Jedi commander’s relationship, tried to spend as much joyful and stress-free time together off the battlefield as possible.  
Thats how many of the members of both battalions were found on the night before the 212th’s deployment playing a drinking game, and having dragged their respective generals away from their obligations at the Temple for just one night of brotherly bonding and relaxation without the stress of the constant war. Thats how Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka found themselves slightly inebriated, but having a great time watching the vode ask questions of all kinds of each other, some knowing that they would get either a caddy, honest, or testy response, or a simple kriff off followed by a sip of whatever they’re drinking if they don’t want to answer.  
Rex took a small sip of his Corellian whiskey, straight of course he wasn’t a baby, and turned to Ahsoka smirking, “Commander, do you talk in your sleep?”  
Fives coughed on his drink and whispered to Kix, “I would have thought he’d be able to answer that himself.” Earning a hard elbow to the ribs in retaliation.  
“Got something to say Vod?” Rex glared at Fives. Cody snickered from his seat on the floor near Anakin, earning him a confused glance from the General, which Cody pretended to not see.  
Fives straightened, going a few shades paler and wincing at the pain in his ribs, immediately responded, “No sir, just…. Asking Kix if he wanted a refill while I’m up.”  
Rex gave him a final glare, and then turned back to Ahsoka who was glancing between the two, swirling around her soda with a thoughtful expression (she’s 16, and Anakin, despite his own reputation, is responsible enough to NOT give her alcohol). “I do talk in my sleep.” she admitted “but I’m not sure that I have any funny stories about that, you’d have to ask Anakin.”  
Rex turned his eye on Anakin with his mouth opened to ask when Ahsoka interrupted, “Nuh uh, my turn Rex since I responded.” His mouth shut with a crestfallen look, but Ahsoka turned triumphantly to her Master.  
“I actually have a question for Master Obi-Wan.” She said. The group went silent and Anakin’s eyes widened in surprise, turning to Obi-Wan who just sat on an overturned crate, a little outside the circle to where he could see everyone and hear, but not actively participating in their game, “if he’ll take it.”  
Obi-Wan hummed, stroking his beard with one hand while the other held his own glass of Corellian whiskey. He rose with with a smirk, downed what was left in his glass, and responded, “Fire away, little one.”  
Ahsoka gaped at the very Anakin display, but then again, her Master’s rebellious traits had to come from somewhere and she was fairly certain at this point that they weren’t entirely genetic. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and take a sip of her own soda while Obi-Wan, seemingly unbothered by the tension in the room, refilled his glass with some whiskey from the bottle sitting at Rex’s feet and he walked over to stand behind Anakin.  
“I-“ she began hesitatingly, and Obi-Wan made a motion of encouragement, “I was curious Master. It seems such a silly question, but I always ask it when I’m with my friends and I thought it might be fun to hear to from you. If you had to pick one thing from what you wear every day that no one could take from you if you were to be dressed by someone else for a week, what would it be and why?”  
Obi-Wan smiled, “I know the answer to that without hesitation, but in return, I think it might be fun to hear from everyone else what they think I might say.”  
“Your lightsaber!” Anakin chimes in almost immediately, “With how often I get the ‘this lightsaber is your life, Anakin’ spiel, it’d have to be the lightsaber.”  
“Obi-Wan pats him on the shoulder and says, “Prudent guess, Anakin, but actually that is incorrect.” Much to Anakin’s horror.  
Cody taps his chin thoughtfully, “I also would have said lightsaber, but without that, I would have to say your com? So you could always call for help?”  
Anakin scoffed, “With his total lack of self-preservation instincts? Not likely.”  
Kix hummed in agreement, but responded snidely, “With all due respect sir, you’re certainly one to talk.”  
Now it was Ahsoka’s turn to choke on her drink, stifling a laugh as Anakin glared at Kix and chucked a loose rock at his head, which of course bounced on his chest-plate, spurring laughter amongst the troops.  
Obi-Wan nods his head towards his Commander when the noise died down, “Again, a good guess Cody, but wrong again.”  
Several others take a stab at it, and Obi-Wan respectfully shoots down each one. Eventually, Anakin about fit to burst exclaims, “Quit holding us in suspense, Master, what would you keep?”  
Obi-Wan takes a long drawl of his whiskey, perhaps already regretting deciding to answer this question.  
Taking a breath, Obi-Wan breaks the suspenseful silence with a simple response, “my boots.”  
“What? Why?” Anakin and Ahsoka exclaim in sync.  
Feeling slightly too dizzy to stand for much longer, Obi-Wan nudges Anakin’s shoulder to get him to scoot over so he can sit down, “It’s a rather complicated response, but-“ he glances over at Anakin, who’s watching him closely, “it’ll make more sense to you in a moment. It's more a matter of what they've meant to me over the years than anything practical” Anakin is practically gaping open-mouthed at him now.  
Obi-Wan cleared his throat, "I'll give you a few examples, but first" he turned seriously to his old Padawan, "Can I have your permission to share some stories with you in them?I only thought that... since they are our brothers in arms, its only fair that they learn a bit more about us?" His serious expression devolved into a mischievous smirk, "I promise not to share anything too embarrassing, unless Rex begs for it." Rex's face lit up which he quickly tried to hide under Anakin's glower, and then he turned to meet Obi-Wan's smiling face and nodded, " You have my permission to thoroughly embarrass the both of us in front of the people I consider family." Rex and Cody raise their glasses at the same time, "Vode an!" "Vode an!" the company repeated, and everyone took a sip of their drinks and settled in for what they knew was going to be enlightening stories about their Generals, their brothers. Obi-Wan takes another sip of his whiskey and recalls exactly why, of all things, his boots mean so much to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time it happens, it's a surprise, but turns out to be a very welcome one. Obi-Wan takes care of everyone but himself until someone literally pins his legs down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you about the sickeningly sweet fluff, so here ya go. I couldn't resist the thunderstorm trophe, sorry guys.

A freshly-knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi, hair still growing out from it’s traditional Padawan cut, allowed the sound of the gentle rainstorm that had developed over the skies of Corusant to soothe his agitated and active mind. It was late, so late that it might as well be considered morning, but Obi-Wan had yet to go to bed, as he was still catching up on much of the academic work he would have completed before his trials as a Padawan. Because the traditional Knight trials had been substituted by his traumatic dual with the Sith Darth Maul and the loss of his master, Obi-Wan was still finishing up a few projects left over while attempting to respect his master’s last wish and figure out how the hell he was going to train young Anakin Skywalker.

The boy was going to make him go grey early, Obi-Wan was convinced, as he shook his head ruefully. He sipped on his definitely-not-decaf tea while he lounged on the sofa in the living area of the small master/padawan apartment that he and Anakin shared, datapad in the other hand with tabs and tabs of open articles on advanced Force theory alongside teaching manuals for young masters. How he was going to handle the stress of the coming months, Obi-Wan had no idea. Here he was, having just lost his master in the most traumatizing way possible, putting on a brave face like he always does just to do justice to the last request of a master who had never wanted him, who would always pass him up for someone better, and to turn around and train the same boy his master had passed him up for? It stung, he can’t lie. Luckily, one of Obi-Wan’s most useful talents is his ability to shove his emotions into a tight box either never to be opened, or to be acknowledged and then shredded upon a later date, and this is one of those instances. Unluckily, that particular box was growing a bit to full for him to control anymore, and he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that. For now though, that worry could also go in the box for a later date.

Despite the strong tea growing cold in his cup, Obi-Wan fought to suppress the yawn that came from a full day of dealing with many things, the most draining of which was his endlessly energetic and curious charge, currently asleep in the room over. Obi-Wan shifted on the couch, leaning sideways into the soft cushions on the arm and drawing his still-booted feet up onto the sofa, something he would correct Anakin on if he did it, but he would never know that. 

The rain intensified in its pattering on the window behind the sofa, and a distant rumbling threatened a thunderstorm in the near future. Obi-Wan loved thunderstorms, they were so rare on Corusant that he enjoyed every one that he was able to, and he knew Anakin was fascinated by them as well. The fact that such a valuable resource to a child of the desert fell from the sky at all and in such large quantities was astounding to the boy, and he had only seen short rainstorms so far, not a large-scale and loud thunderstorm like what was threatening to break. Usually, Obi-Wan would wake him up to see it, but given the late hour and Anakin’s long day tomorrow of classes, sleep was more important for Anakin at the moment. There were so many things Obi-Wan was figuring out about taking care of a child, and sleep was one of those very import things.

Lightning flashed across the window followed by thunderously loud boom of thunder. Obi-Wan smiled at the forces of nature outside his window, but stiffened in alarm, spilling a bit of his tea, when he felt alertness from the other side of his bond, followed by an almost-overwhelming wave of fear and helplessness. Anakin was awake and he was afraid. 

Obi-Wan reached over to set his datapad carefully on the coffee table and just as he was about to get up to go to the boy, Anakin’s door slid open and his chubby, tear-stained face, haloed by bed-ruffled blond hair poked out.

“Master Obi-Wan” Anakin quickly wiped his tears away on his sleep shirt and stepped into the room. He couldn’t show he was afraid, fear got you killed on Tatooine. 

“Hello young one.” Obi-Wan nodded to him. “Are you alright? Did the storm wake you?”

“Y- Yes. I’m alright.” Anakin stammered. “The storm didn’t wake me, I was just… thirsty.”

Not even having known the boy for that long, or even having to use the training bond they shared, Obi-Wan knew he was lying, but he understood. The boy was used to having to hide his fear because it required trust, a habit not easily broken. Learning to trust was a long road, and one Obi-Wan was willing to wait out for Anakin, for Qui-Gon. If he needed space, Obi-Wan could give him that. 

“If you want, there’s some of that blue milk you love in the cooler. That will help you go back to sleep.” He offered quietly.

“T- thank you, Master, I think I’ll get some” Anakin murmured, and disappeared into the small kitchen space they shared for a moment, soon reappearing with some milk in a small glass that he had warmed and added some of Obi-Wan’s honey to. 

He moved to sit on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table, as Obi-Wan hadn’t had time to request more furniture for their small apartment yet other than the sofa. Clearly, Anakin was subconsciously seeking comfort, the bond still throbbing with his fear from a few minutes ago, a throb Obi-Wan was still aware of, but he was unsure how to proceed, uncomfortable with being the initiator. Anakin intellectually knew what the storm was, that it couldn’t hurt him, but was still subconsciously afraid of it. Ani has always been a smart child, forced to grow up quickly, but it was moments like these that always brought out sharply the fact that he was still but a child who needed comfort during a scary storm like most children. The boy shuffled uncomfortably on the floor, sitting crosslegged, and staring at the window, simultaneously fascinated by the water washing across it, illuminated by lightning, but also frightened by its unpredictability and power. 

“Come sit up here, dear one.” Obi-Wan gestured with his free hand to the other half of the sofa, not occupied by his legs, “It’s far more comfortable than the floor.” Anakin nearly leaped to his feet and shuffled over to the sofa. Both fighting back smiles, Anakin sank into the cushions by Obi-Wan’s feet and sipped on his blue milk with tired eyes, while Obi-Wan sipped his tea. 

Contentedness drifted across the open bond between the two, and Obi-Wan sent subtle waves of comfort across to the young boy, as well as gentle feelings of mutual sleepiness to soothe him, pretending to continue working on his datapad. Anakin’s riotous emotions gradually calmed and his eyes were harder to keep open. The two sat like that for a while, their mutual presences doing the other good despite the physical distance, the sound of the thunder gradually becoming just as soothing to Anakin as it is to Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan, fully absorbed in an article about keeping a youngling’s attention, a problem he’d be encountering more often with his young charge, nearly jumped when the silence was disturbed by the thud of Anakin’s empty glass onto the carpet and a slight weight pressing into Obi-Wan’s calves. Obi-Wan turned to his young padawan to find him sound asleep again, a contented smile on his face, and head resting on the soft leather calves of Obi-Wan’s boots. 

Obi-Wan huffed softly in amusement, unable to hide the soft smile that beamed across his face. Well, I guess I’m stuck here for the night, Obi-Wan thought, using the Force to call a blanket from Anakin’s bed to tuck gently around the young boy. He slept rather lightly, so waking him to move might mean he’d never go back to sleep. 

I might regret this in the morning, Obi-Wan ruefully thought, as he shuffled the pillows supporting him around and resting his head on them comfortably, already not excited for the aches and pains that followed from sleeping in an uncomfortable position all night, but it was worth it if Anakin learned to trust him through this.

The boots shouldn’t be that comfortable to sleep on, but Obi-Wan was careful when picking out his boots that they had no buckles or other things that could catch or scrape on things while on mission. He’d been caught in that position before, crawling through an air vent on a covert spying mission when his buckle gave away his position when it scrapped the side of the metal vent loudly, giving away his position, and causing his rather grumpy master to have to come rescue him. For the second time that mission alone. 

No, he had learned his lesson, and only got no-frills boots, but of the highest quality leather he could afford. Jedi are meant to be diplomats and peacekeepers, and while the Code permits few belongings, having few, but good quality things are important for putting on a good face as a diplomat, a lesson he had learned on Mandalore. Knowing Obi-Wan’s penchant for nice, but simple things and the fact that he would never accept an impractical gift, these boots had been a given to him as a parting thank you from the Duchess Satine for his protection of her for so long. Obi-Wan treasured these boots, as they were of the highest quality and made with several hidden pockets and shafts for small knives, lock-picking kits and such, things he wished he had on occasions when he’d found himself in a tough spot on missions. 

He said he treasured them for these qualities, but in the deepest depths of his feelings, hidden far away from prying perceptions, it was because they were a gift from delicate hands that he dared not touch for too long. Attachment his soul screeched, but contradictorily soared at the the soft and shy smile, the wisps of escaped blonde hair from the elaborate updo, the stiff movements from the still-healing scar that Obi-Wan knew she bore from his clumsiness, the whispered “Ret'urcye mhi, ner cabur” before he followed his master back to Corusant, never to see her. 

Attachment his soul still screeched as Obi-Wan, fervently ignoring the internal war as always, absently reached to smooth Anakin’s sleep-ruffled hair. He was but a boy who needed comforting, and Obi-Wan was willing to give it where it was needed to soothe the hole left by his mother’s absence as best he could. 

That can’t be comfortable, Obi-Wan thought distractedly, concerned that his young Padawan would be cranky tomorrow because he was sore from sleeping all night on his master’s boots. But just as Obi-Wan had made the decision to move Anakin to his bed, the boy nuzzled deeper into the calves of Obi-Wan’s leather boots and sighed in contentment, his shields, already very strong for his age, more naturally softened than Obi-Wan had seen since he had begun showing him how to shield in their first days as a pair. 

Resigned to his soreness the next day, Obi-Wan relaxed down into the pillows beneath him, and reached out with the Force to turn off the lights. The shared pains of the past and fears of the future soaked away from the young master and his apprentice with the rain and in the soft feel of a small head resting on a soft pair of boots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> Ret'urcye mhi, ner cabur - Thank you, my protector


	3. Geonesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who commented and gave kudos on my first two chapters, and have fun with the rollercoaster of emotions that is hormonal teenager Anakin Skywalker and his TiredParentMasterObi-Wan TM.   
> This chapter bounces around in perspectives and I'm sorry if it's confusing. Italics is mental conversation.   
> I don't own Star Wars or the characters, I just love them and wish I could protect them better than Disney has.

The second time it happened was under far more unhappy circumstances. Still reeling from the devastating loss of his mother, weighed down heavily from the guilt of his subsequent actions, whipping strongly in contrast to the pure joy when Padmé revealed she loved him back, Anakin went into the battle of Geonesis set up for failure. His emotions were all over the place, he was an unpredictable whirlwind of decisive, instinctive action that never paused to think, and he was bound to pay for it. 

For Obi-Wan’s part, he was reeling for a different set of reasons. All that he had known for his many years as a Jedi was suddenly turned on its head by the existence of an entire army for the Jedi and at their disposal for a war he had fought so hard to negotiate and deescalate the rise of since his padawanship. 

Now here he was, his senses and emotions still throbbing painfully from the loss of so many Jedi and clones in the arena on Geonosis, a gunship full of soldiers he didn’t even know awaiting his commands, and a padawan who couldn’t stop looking longingly at the beautiful Senator. In hindsight, Obi-Wan briefly thought, it was a horrible idea sending his lovesick padawan on essentially a golden opportunity to woo the woman he’d pinned after since he was a boy. He knew from his experience on Manadolore that this could only end in heartbreak for the both of them, but he’d let Anakin go anyways, and his initial instinct was proving to be right. 

The gunship jostled roughly to the starboard side when a rocket hit. Padmé yelped, falling out the open side and taking the clone standing next to her with her. Anakin’s hoarse shriek of “Padmé!” was lost to the sound of the gunship engines and her thud into the sand. 

“Put the ship down!” Anakin shouted, looking like he was about to jump after him.   
Obi-Wan jumped to his side, prepared for his rash padawan to do just that, “Anakin,” he reprimanded seriously, “don’t let your personal feelings get in the way!”  
He turned to order to pilot to continue following Dooku on the speeder.

Anakin finally turned away from the side where Padmé had fallen and shouted to the pilot to again lower the ship. Obi-Wan could feel the panic and worry rolling off his padawan in waves, and tried to push clarity and peace along their rolling bond. It didn’t seem to have much effect in the face of his anger being inflated by the fear, but if anyone understood the fear of a beloved in danger, Obi-Wan did. He took an internal deep breath to deal with his irrational and in-love teenager as best he knew how; with words. 

“I can't take Dooku alone, I need you. If we catch him, we can end this war right now.” Anakin’s anger and fear remained unchanged by Obi-Wan’s reasoning, he could feel. “We have a job to do!” He finally blurted out.

“I don't care! Put the ship down!” He petulantly ordered.

Completely done beating around the bush, Obi-Wan shouted, “You will be expelled from the Jedi Order!”

“I can’t leave her!” The profound fear and truth to Anakin’s words shook Obi-Wan to the core. His boy really had fallen very hard for Padmé, hadn’t he? A new tactic was obviously necessary to make this boy see reason. 

“Come to your senses!” He shouted while sending what his padawan had taken to calling a ‘mind mint’ through their link. It was exactly what it sounded like, a refreshing wave of clarity that briefly swept all chaos of emotions and thoughts from the mind in a moment of turmoil to allow the other a moment to gather themselves, like a breath of fresh air, or like a breath mint. Obi-Wan’s words reverberated through their link alongside the sweep and hit Anakin like a ton of bricks, and then he asked the crucial question. “What do you think Padmé would do were she in your position?” 

Anakin held Obi-Wan’s gaze for a moment, then looked away and allowed himself to breath through his racing heart. He tried clearing his emotions away as best he could, thinking over what his Master had said. He blinked hard to clear what some might think was sand, but what Obi-Wan could see were tears building in his eyes. 

“She would do her duty.” He eventually admitted, with a hint of remorse that Obi-Wan picked up on over their bond. 

Obi-Wan nodded and touched his shoulder comfortingly and Anakin immediately grasped his hand and looked up back into Obi-Wan’s eyes. Gratitude flooded Obi-Wan from Anakin’s side of the bond for his aid along with a boost of the boy’s boundless energy for his already flagging reserves. Obi-Wan felt his padawan’s energy gift and gave him a small smile in thanks, and they prepared to face Dooku. 

—————————————————————————————————————— 

Today had been a day from hell, Obi-Wan was completely convinced. Lying on the floor of the droid factory or wherever they were, his arm and leg on fire from where he had been cut to the bone by Dooku’s saber. The worst was being completely unable to help as his hotheaded but brave padawan charged Dooku. He threw his saber to Anakin so he’d at least stand a chance against the Makashi dualist, despite his inexperience with dual wielding. 

Obi-Wan watched from where he fell, connected to Anakin through their bond, but afraid to give Anakin too much advice that he got distracted, so he resorted to brief instructions and the occasional Force nudge to shift a limb a centimeter from the ruby blade. Anakin held his own for a few minutes, but Dooku was far the superior dualist with years of experience on the teenage boy, and was merely playing with him. 

Obi-Wan’s heart nearly stopped when an opening left too wide resorted in a quick response from Dooku, who slashed through Anakin’s right forearm as if it wasn’t even there and Force pushed him across the room where he thudded painfully to the ground, and slid. Not really sure why, maybe a latent paternal instinct to protect his very injured padawan, Obi-Wan painfully pushed his injured leg forward as Anakin slid backwards towards him just enough that when Anakin collided limply with him, his head rested on the calf of Obi-Wan’s boot. Obi-Wan continued prodding mentally at Anakin, as he had since his arm had been sliced through, but the boy was in shock and merely lay there conscious, but eyes closed against the waves of pain and fear. 

Maybe he was delirious with his own pain and Anakin’s rebounding through their bond so strongly that Obi-Wan could feel his own arm throbbing where Anakin’s should have been, but he studied his padawan’s face as it rested on his leg, and recalled a similar scene when they had been nothing but a two boys, one given responsibility he was not ready for, and another thrust into a new environment and afraid of a thunderstorm. Although it was absolutely not the time, his heart warmed with the thought. 

When did you grow up so quickly? He mused to himself through the daze of pain. 

I don’t know, Master, Anakin mentally quipped, obviously with some effort, I’d consider that to be when I got taller than you. 

Anakin! A wave of concern flooded from Obi-Wan, alongside a healthy dose of fear for his young padawan that he didn’t intend to share, but seeing how close they were currently, and how much pain they were both experiencing, they were too tired to put up shields against each other and just let their presences meld into each other. If Yoda weren’t distracted by Dooku at the moment, he would huff disapprovingly at them for doing this, but the pair just couldn’t really care at the moment. 

How are you feeling? Obi-Wan probed. He could feel it, but having Anakin talk was the only thing keeping him conscious. 

Trying not to think about it, otherwise I might go back into shock again. Really hurts. Keep talking, it’s distracting. 

Oh don’t worry, its rather distracting to me as well. Do you have any idea how badly you’re projecting right now? 

…oh, Anakin thought with a flash of guilt that was quickly swept away by the intense pain from his cauterized stump of an arm. I’m sorry, Master. 

Obi-Wan could sense he was talking about more than the pain that he couldn’t seem to keep under control. 

After a beat, Obi-Wan calmly projected, Let me show you something that might help. Just be very careful, alright? 

Okay, Anakin responded. Almost immediately, Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s comforting presence gently brush against the edges of his tattered shields, asking for entry, which the boy quickly granted. Obi-Wan guided his padawan through carefully dulling his pain receptors, not so much that the pain disappeared, but that it became at least bearable. 

Anakin’s eyes slowly blinked open and looked up at his Master from his cushion on his boot. He gave a lopsided slight smile in gratitude and commented, Wow this feels nice.

Right. Obi-Wan responded, but you should be warned, it can make you a bit lightheaded and can be a bit impairing of the senses because your body was already trying to dull the pain, so those chemicals are still in your body. 

You mean make me a bit loopy? Anakin slurred back. 

Yes, Obi-Wan replied a bit worried. It shouldn’t have gotten to him this quickly or as strongly, but he guessed that with Anakin’s very high midichlorian count that the Force in him was also working overtime to keep the boy calm, hence his irregular behavior. Well, at least he was subdued and distracted for the moment, but now another worry was arising in his young padawan for Padmé’s safety, now that his own trauma was forcefully pushed to the side. 

She’ll be alright, Anakin. Obi-Wan pushed at him gently. She’s a tough young woman, and she had a trooper with her when she fell. They were far from the center of the fighting and she has a bodyguard. 

I know that, Master. Anakin said testily, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying now does it. He internally sighed and gave another loopy grin towards the ceiling of the factory. A contended look came over his face and he said something that while Anakin would forget it, Obi-Wan never could though he wished it.

She said she loved me. She said it back. I can’t believe she loves me. I love her so much. He turned to Obi-Wan who was frozen in shock, staring at his padawan not entirely processing that he was voicing this. 

You know, I always hoped she would love me back. I’ve loved her for so long and I thought all through our trip on Naboo that she could never love me back, as hard as I tried. Anakin’s head listed further into the soft leather of Obi-Wan’s boot, eyes drooping from exhaustion and suppressed pain. She said that it just couldn’t work for us. Forbidden for me, and too much stress for her, let alone having to keep it a secret. 

Obi-Wan’s heart went out to the young boy, forced to grow into a man too soon. He thought of his own love for Satine that seemed so many lifetimes ago. That he too was a padawan longing for a strong, powerful, and beautiful woman, but both torn apart by their dedication to their respective lives. He distantly wished that Anakin had told him he’d been struggling with his love for Padmé sooner so they could work through it before he saw her, or even before he approved for his lovesick young padawan to be her bodyguard. Alone. That it took him being nearly high as a kite for him to confide in his master was a rather sad indication of his shortcomings (he was aware that he wasn’t the most emotionally open, thank you, and he really did try, but it was difficult walking the delicate line between being the stoic Jedi master and the real father-figure that Anakin needed). 

Sure that his padawan would have a near-heart attack if he knew what he was saying to his master at this moment, Obi-Wan gently shushed him and sent calming waves of peace through the bond. Anakin responded to it almost immediately. Despite the lightsabers clashing violently nearby, he slipped into a light meditation and Obi-Wan could feel the reverberating throbbing of Anakin’s arm through the bond fade. 

With his padawan at least pacified on the calf of his boot, Obi-Wan turned his full attention (he never stopped paying attention, always beware of flying debris in a lightsaber duel), to the ensuing battle between the old master and apprentice.

Fighting was not the right word for what was happening, nor even was duel. It was a dance. A dance so old that it was engraved in the fiber of both of their souls and executed with such elegance that Obi-Wan couldn’t find the words. What changed the tone of the dance was the fury behind the apprentice’s motions. The master carefully calculated his motions, despite what appeared to be outer fury was actually a ruse to rise the ire of the other, but the master was utterly in control. While the apprentice executed every motion with sharp, powerful precision and a pure hatred that fueled each stroke for the master behind them. Ultimately, the apprentice knew that he could never hope to defeat the master who had trained him, so he was forced to rely on cheap distraction shots to make his escape. 

Exhaustion settled into Obi-Wan’s body. He fought to stay conscious, using every bit of energy coming from unknown reserves, (he didn’t know and would deny if accused came from paternal instincts towards the boy), to continue keeping Anakin in his near-unconscious, meditative state. Dooku crushed the base of a tower of pipes not eight feet from where the pair lay incapacitated, and then dashed to his waiting ship that bolted from the hanger in seconds. 

The tower fell in what felt like slow motion to Obi-Wan, his drowsiness and exhaustion rendering him useless to stop it or move them from its incoming path. Obi-Wan instinctively threw as much of his presence and willpower into a shield over Anakin, hoping it would be enough to at least save him until Yoda could get it off them, and he sent a weak, I’m so sorry dear one, through their bond, certain he would be dead in a moment. Instead, the agonizing groaning from the metal ceased and Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Yoda exerting every inch of his magnificent prowess in the Force to hold the tower not a foot above their prone bodies, shift it away from them, and drop it safely behind them. 

Obi-Wan’s head fell limp to his arm, seeing stars with how dizzy he was from attempting to help his padawan when he was in such a state. Distantly, he thought Qui-Gon could have saved him. He would have had the strength to protect him where I always fail. With the final word echoing through his subconscious, he fell into blackness.

Without his master’s influence, the intense pain radiating from his stump roared back with a vengeance and Anakin jolted out of his meditation with a groan and an unintended fidget of his body, trying to move away from what pained him, but instead causing more pain by moving. He tore his eyes open to look up at his master, realizing that he was resting on the soft calf of his boot. 

Absently, it reminded him of one of his favorite memories of Obi-Wan where he fell asleep as a young padawan on his boot after being frightened of a particularly bad rainstorm. The scent of the polished leather, the soft plush leather of the calf of his boot, warmed by the skin under it, lulled the terrified young boy to sleep very quickly. 

He treasured the memory because to a boy who had grown up with physical affection all his life, to the point where its stark absence in the temple created a gaping hole in his soul that he desperately hoped his master would fill with at least a hug once in a while, it was the first time Obi-Wan had allowed him anything resembling physical affection or closeness. Ever. And it had filled that hole in his soul with a warm light that at the time he was sure ignited the otherwise dark room with his contentedness, almost like one of his mother’s welcome home hugs after a long day at Watto’s. The memory was one of his most tightly-held and coveted secrets. 

Now though, he felt just as helpless as that small boy did in the face of a huge force of nature, unable to muster the control and energy to help his master wake up. Suddenly, he felt a presence brush against the edges of his frantic mind, easily pushing his disoriented thoughts to the side to give a strong presence of Yoda. Anakin, wary but trusting, opened his shields and immediately was met with a warm burst of energy that he was able to quickly turn and give to his master through their limp bond. 

Obi-Wan’s presence slowly regained some of its pallor and flavor that was distinctly Obi-Wan as he came into consciousness. Anakin was there to bolster him with the energy Yoda had shared with him as his eyes slowly blinked open. Registering his padawan’s face, calculatingly observing his return to awareness for more grave injuries, he was suddenly shook with gratitude for the man lying on his boots like the fearful boy he had been the first time this had happened. He shared a rare type of smile, one that subtle but so genuine and absolutely saturated with his pure affection for his padawan. Anakin couldn’t help but return the smile, their bond thrumming with contentedness despite each other’s physical pain. 

While he had the energy, Obi-Wan grimaced in anticipation and used his good leg and arm to haul himself to his knee, and then to his feet. The pain was excruciating, his body throbbing, and he had to concentrate very hard not to cry out. 

Anakin had used the momentum of Obi-Wan’s leg slipping out from under him to roll gracelessly to sit up, his whole arm now feeling like it was on fire. He struggled to get up, but fell back, but not before Obi-Wan caught him by the stump of his arm. 

Anakin cried out, and Obi-Wan sent a heartfelt “sorry” across their bond. He placed a supportive hand to the small of his back to help him totally upright. His brain fogged with pain, he felt Obi-Wan’s waves of comfort being sent and latched onto those, so focused on actually getting up that he missed Padmé’s concerned shout of “Anakin!” From across the room. 

He looked up just before a slender arm slid behind his neck and she buried her face in his neck in a tight embrace. Obi-Wan rapidly disconnected from the bond, overwhelmed from the sheer emotion his padawan was feeling at actually being able to see and feel Padmé after the terror of losing her on the gunship. He would have to meditate on how to deal with this later, but right now, more pressing matters were at hand. 

For the remainder of the war, this would be how he handled anything to do with Padmé: there were always more “pressing” matters than his padawan’s affair and the undue stress and unhappiness it would cause Anakin if he knew that Obi-Wan knew, therefore, he put off and put off and put off having a man-to-man discussion about it until it became to late for it to matter. Anakin was already eaten from the inside by his fear and resentment of a condemnation that Obi-Wan would never have given. Too enveloped in the terror that he couldn’t see his brother waiting in the shadows with open arms to comfort him, if only he asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I watched the scenes to be as accurate as possible.  
> No I am not a cool nerd like a ton of people in this fandom and don't know canonically how Master-Padawan bonds, or other osik that real fans would be skeptical of works, what I write and use is based on other FF I've read an enjoyed the application of to a particular character.


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